Spider's Web
by googlydoo2
Summary: Widowmaker has her eyes on the prize, and that prize happens to be a quirky, fast moving British woman. Rated Mature because I'm a perv. 1st Chapter is quite tame, though.
1. Chapter 1

"Sniper!" Soldier 76 called out. The trailing line of heat from behind the round was still dissipating and there was a hard crack in the energy shield Reinhardt held in place. Tracer scanned the tops of all the buildings in Dorado's favela until she saw them. Several tiny red lights clustered together.

"Got ya." Tracer whispered with a smirk. She nodded to Soldier 76 who gave her a nod in return and the little speed demon was off. Bobbing and weaving past stray shrapnel flying from Roadhog as he engaged the others, she finally made it into an alley and looked for a way up. "Come on... There's gotta be a ladder here somewhere."

A shadow over her caused Tracer to dart forward in a streak of blue and it was lucky she did. Another sniper round ripped into the cement where she'd only just been standing. Followed by bursts of automatic fire from the same direction. Tracer zipped back once again to avoid certain death. The sniper's long, slender form leaped down and leveled her rifle on the Overwatch operative.

"Ever get that feelin' of deja vu?" Tracer asked with a smirk as she teleported back behind the sniper. As she turned to take her down there was a loud hissing sound and suddenly her lungs felt like they'd been filled with led. Tracer gasped for breath, buckling at the knees and thought she would die any minute when she felt slender but powerful fingers wrap around her throat. But no deathblow came. Instead she was thrust against the wall behind her, the sniper's hands pushing against her jaw instead of crushing her windpipe.

"Bonjour cherie..." Widowmaker said in her usual rasping, sultry voice. Tracer opened her eyes, glaring down at the sniper who held her up against the wall. "I'm flattered you would give me your complete attention today."

"Don' read to much into it." Tracer snapped, trying to kick at the sniper. Widow responded by using her body to press Tracer further into the wall, making movement impossible for her. "Why do ya have to be so bloody strong?"

"Talon would have no use for me, otherwise." Widow replied with a grin, her posture forcing her face to be mere inches away from Tracer's. The pilot could feel the sniper's breath against her cheek and groaned, struggling against her captor. Widow grinned, taking a step back, which threw Tracer off her guard. The French woman then fired her grappling hook into the wall, smirking as the Brit's wrist was caught underneath, thoroughly held in place.

"What's the big idea!?" Tracer demanded, raising one of her pistols up and spraying down the alley. Widomaker danced around the bullets and fired another one of her poisonous gas mines, pinning Tracer's other hand to the wall. The pilot looked up at the trap nervously, registering a mischievous giggle from her captor.

"It is not primed." Widow stated as she took slow, methodical steps toward Tracer. The Brit struggled against her restraints to no avail. Widow had her in her web, a thought which angered the little pilot, mainly because of the pun that was far too easy. "So, cherie, here we are."

"Well you won." Tracer scoffed, looking up and off to the side indignantly. "You gonna gloat before ya shoot me or skip the pleasantries?"

"Neither." She replied with a smirk as she approached the pilot again. Tracer kicked out at the sniper only to have her legs grabbed by Widow's free hands. She pinned those skinny legs back against the wall and jammed her thigh against Tracer's pelvis, eliciting a gasp from the sour Brit that was entirely unexpected. Tracer's neck, face and even her ears turned bright red and she turned away from her captor, angry as could be.

Widow slowly slid one of her hands up from Tracer's knee, grazing her through the skin tight orange leggings. The pilot looked down, watching as the sniper's finger tips slid up, catching on every bit of fabric in her jacket until it made its way up to her neck. Locking eyes with her prey, the sniper cupped her chin and lifted it up, inching forward painfully slowly. Tracer's heart was slamming against her chest wall and she had no clue whether she was supposed to scream at Widow to stop, call for help... or just let things happen.

Widow's lips were hovering a hair's breadth away from her own when the sniper finally stopped. She could feel the erratic breath of her quarry against her blueish skin, grinning in a sultry way as she saw the blood rushing to Tracer's cheeks.

"Plus de chance la prochaine fois..." Widow whispered seductively. She could see confusion in Tracer's big brown eyes and leaned forward, pressing her cheek against the pilot's until her lips were right next to Tracer's ear. "I said... better luck next time."

Widow backed off with a grin, seeing the hot mess that Tracer had become as she fought to catch her breath. Her comm started blaring with chatter, adding to the confusion she felt. Widow retracted her grappling hook and then fired it up to the roof top above.

"The payload didn't make it in time." Came the voice of Soldier 76 over Tracer's comm. "Everyone fall back."

Widow reveled in her victory and decided to savor it and watch Tracer's reaction. When she freed herself from the trap she slowly slid down until she was on her knees, resting on her out turned feet. She was breathing heavily and looking around in confused thought, her face as bright red as ever. She looked up in time to see Widow grinning down at her and narrowed her eyes.

"You don't fight fair!" She shouted childishly, jumping up and almost throwing a fit. Widowmaker giggled uncontrollably and blew the Brit a kiss. Seemingly thrown off by the gesture she stood there for a moment before heavy foot falls keyed Tracer in that it was time to leave. "This isn't over, ya barmy trollop!" The sniper watched in amusement as her prey ran off, back to where she had landed the Overwatch gunship.

"À bientôt."


	2. Chapter 2

The battle as going pretty well. All Tracer had to do was help Winston take the point at the back of the Volskaya Industries foundry and they'd be free to go home, job well done. That dream went out the window when a sniper round caught Winston in the shoulder. The scientist had already taken a beating on the way up, even with the help of his trusty jump pack.

"Go 'head and fall back, luv." Tracer said, patting Winston on the shoulder. "I got this!"

Without waiting for his response Tracer zipped ahead, quick as lightning and hopped on to the point. It didn't offer very much cover and she was forced to crouch in one of the corners while the point began automatically registering Tracer as taking hold. The few minutes it took the point to register Overwatch's control went by agonizingly slowly for the Brit and she was certain Widow would swoop down at any time and start firing, but she never came. The point registered with a faint shockwave and Tracer slowly pushed out of her corner.

Looking around the walls near her to be sure she was safe, she began jogging and then running back to the library her team had used as a base to attack from. She got about half-way their when a purple haze spat up at her from a device on the ground she hadn't noticed in time. Tracer fell to her knees, her eyes watering as she began choking on the polluted air. To make matters worse the untainted air had already been so cold it was hard to take deep breaths. The loud clack-clack-clack of someone walking in heels registered behind her. Tracer looked back in time to see the blurry image of Widowmaker slowly walking over to her. She tried to bring her guns up to defend herself but they were easily swatted away. Within seconds Tracer passed out on the cold metal ground.

* * *

Tracer opened here eyes and slowly sat up. Wherever she was it was poorly lit and her vision was still blurry from the toxin Widow had used on her. As they slowly began adjusting back to how she normally could see the young Brit gathered her surroundings. She wasn't in a cell, which was odd, but her hands were bound behind her.

"Enfin réveillé?" Widowmaker asked, stepping gracefully out of the shadows, giving Tracer a start.

"Where the bloody hell am I?" She demanded, standing up and taking a step toward the French sniper. Her left ankle was yanked back and Tracer looked down to see there was a shackle around it. Growling, she glared up at Widow who merely smirked at the frustrated young woman.

"Tsk... so unappreciative, even when I saved your life." Widow replied with a sultry grin. When she saw the look of visible confusion on Tracer's face she took a seat on some crate propped against a near by wall. "It was much too easy for you to capture that point yourself, no?"

"I s'pose it was." Tracer replied, raising an eyebrow. "What of it? How does that equal you savin' me?"

"Facile." Widow stated, crossing one of her long legs over the other and looking at her nails, as if bored with the conversation. "You did not run into any adversaire because they were waiting for you on the way back to la bibliothèque. As soon as you showed that pretty face of yours a big hook, a bear trap and many guns were waiting for you."

"An' you weren't apart of this trap because..."

"Because I do not want you dead, chérie." The sniper replied, standing and walking up to Tracer who had instinctively backed up, only to find a wall at her back. Just as it was the week prior, Tracer was glancing up at the tall, golden eyed, blue skinned sniper with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. "Your death seems... wasteful."

"Then what DO you want?" Tracer demanded, trying to take control of the situation where she could. Widow's response was to slowly lift Tracer's goggles off and look the Brit in the eyes with an almost hungry expression. Tracer leaned her head back against the wall behind her, finding extremely difficulty in looking away from the woman who had pinned her to the wall without her realizing it. Icy blue finger tips slid against Tracer's neck, causing her breath to catch in her throat. The young pilot felt her face get hot and Widowmaker grinned as she watched her prey turn bright red from her neck all the way up to the tips of her ears.

"I want everything, chérie..." She finally said. Tracer swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed. On the one hand Widow was dangerous, callous and Tracer had no desire to give the woman the satisfaction of getting to her, much less any _other_ kind. On the other hand the young pilot was definitely not turned off by her captor, as loathe as she was to admit it. She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't registered Widowmaker had moved a single inch until she felt her teeth gently dig into her ear lobe. Tracer gasped again, much louder than before but retained enough presence of mind to turn her head away, her neck and face an even brighter red than before.

"What's the big idea?" She demanded, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. "You think you can just..."

Tracer was cut off by Widow taking position of her lips, kissing the Brit very aggressively. One of the sniper's hands slid up Tracer's back, coming to rest on the back of her head while her other hand went the opposite direction, cupping the pilot's rear end. Tracer gasped into Widow's mouth, parting her lips. Widow took full advantage and assailed the Brit's mouth with her tongue. Grasping a handful of messy brown hair the sniper yanked back and leaned forward, biting down on Tracer's exposed neck hard enough to leave a mark, around which she planted her lips, sucking until it left a little purple welt.

All of Tracer's thoughts on resisting left her. Widowmaker was currently an enemy, brainwashed though she might have been. It was Tracer's duty to try to rescue her from her state of affairs and definitely to stop her from hurting anyone else. That being said, the young woman was putty in her captor's hands, now, and they both knew it.

"Tu es à moi." Widowmaker whispered against Tracer's jawline, biting at the soft skin in a line toward her lips. Tracer said nothing, embarrassed to admit she wanted this and resigned to letting her natural reactions come out in the form of gasps and soft moans. Widow's teeth captured Tracer's lower lip and tugged it back while her knee pressed between the Brit's legs. The young pilot arched her back, her breathing erratic as her captor continued to tease her more and more. "Ma jolie petite luciole."

"I got no idea what you're sayin' love..." Tracer whispered, trying to catch her breath. "But you can keep on sayin' it."

Widowmaker began giggling at her captive's response. Tracer eyed her captor warily for a second, inspiring Widow to keep going. Pressing her hands down on Tracer's shoulders, Widowmaker shoved her to the ground, forcing the pilot to sit awkwardly against the wall. The sniper got down on her hands and knees and continued teasing the Brit, biting and sucking her lip. Widow decided it was time to get a little handsy a and raked Tracer's thighs through her orange pants with her well maintained finger nails. She slid her hands around to the pilot's hips, pulling the woman forward until the prey was pretty much sitting in her huntress's lap. Reaching up to Tracer's jacket, Widow began to loosen the straps that held the woman's harness in place.

"Hang on!" Tracer exclaimed when she realized what Widow was doing. "If you take that off, I'll..."

"Calmez-vous, ma luciole." Widowmaker replied, cupping the now terrified Tracer's chin in her cold fingers. "I am not going to take your little time saver off." Widow resumed what she was doing, loosening the straps enough to get to the jacket underneath. A shrill gasp flew from the pilot's mouth as Widow's icy hands slid into the jacket and groped her breasts beneath it. Widow took great care to slowly part the jacket, making sure to leave the harness mostly intact. The sniper leaned back to admire the result, looking at Tracer's bare chest with undisguised lust that caused the Brit to blush furiously and look off to the side. Another moan was elicited from the little pilot when Widow's lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking at it as hard as she'd done on Tracer's neck. The sniper's hands hand traveled around her captive's body until her hands were firmly planted on Tracer's rear end.

"Come on..." Tracer said, almost pleadingly. Widowmaker grinned, thrilling in how much control she now had over her captive. Deciding to oblige her plaything, Widow traced the waistline of those bright orange pants with her finger nails, back and forth a few times, just to further frustrate the pilot. When she felt Tracer had had enough she hooked her fingers against those pants and tugged them down, forcing the Brit to press her knees together. She slid her fingernails back up against Tracer's bare legs and hooked them into the fabric of the underwear her prey was still wearing. As she began tugging a light beeping broke her from her fun.

Widow looked back to see that there were several intruders in her safehouse. She knew they were Overwatch and that they'd tracked Tracer here, no doubt because of the device in her chest.

"Merde..." Widowmaker muttered with a sigh. "Pardon, ma jolie petite luciole. We will have to continue this another time."

"What?" Tracer asked as Widow began dressing her back up. It wasn't until she was fully clothed again that the Brit heard the voices echoing in the dark complex. She realized that someone from Overwatch had come to rescue her and silently wished it had taken them a little longer to find her. Still, she was grateful Widow had the decency to cover her up. That was a line of questions she did not want to answer. Her thoughts were broken as Widow forcefully grabbed Tracer's jaw and stole one last kiss from her soon-to-be rescued captive.

"Until next time, me luciole." She whispered, biting Tracer's earlobe before she turned and disappeared into the shadows. She could hear what sounded like Pharrah and Mei coming down one of the other hallways and called out to them.

"What rubbish..." She whispered to herself as she waited for her friends to find her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long hiatus, friends. I literally died in the metaphorical sense. Also my sense of humor got better, as seen by that literary joke I told. Anywho, time to pump out more writing!**

* * *

Tracer looked over at and nodded. The Korean pilot winked and then hit the jets on her mecha, shouting "Nerf this!" over its speaker system. Tracer watched as the bunny-bot went critical and then erupted, washing the whole area in atomic heat. When the air had cooled enough to breathe the Brit sprinted out, her guns blazing blue bolts as she went. The crash of a fresh mecha that summoned could be heard behind her and that was all the confirmation Tracer needed to push into the point.

As the pilot stepped into the open, however, a bright red streak flew past and smacked the ground by her foot. Tracer yelped and began zig zagging toward the point, shouting a curse or legitimate in surprise as her unseen foe continued firing at her. Tracer growled loudly in frustration as she took cover, knowing full well what was happening. Widow was teasing her. Or trying to corral her somewhere secluded again. Tracer's thoughts wandered for a moment but she quickly shook her head.

"Time an' a place, Lena..." She reminded herself. She turned to see where was and her heart nearly leaped out of her throat as she saw her armored support being taken down.

"¡Tengo!" Sombra shouted as 's mech deactivated and Hannah was jerked out of her pilot's seat. Tracer kicked off the wall to go help when a shot zipped in front of her, causing her to shout in surprise again. She turned and looked up to see Widow and she just knew that she had a grin on that face of hers.

"J'espère que je ne suis pas interrompre, ma luciole." She called out, grinning down at her prey. Tracer screamed in frustration and aimed up at her, firing wide. The bolts flew all around Widowmaker, none of them coming even remotely close enough at that distance. The sniper snickered, fired her grappling hook and disappeared behind one of the giant towers that was connected tot he giant Russian robots the facility was building. A tap on Tracer's shoulder caused the Brit to scream but when she turned around the dull, droning sound of non-critical systems in her chest harness shutting down resounded off the metal walls. Sombra smirked at her and then disappeared before Tracer could even react. The pilot looked to see if was okay but the mecha pilot was nowhere to be seen, either.

"Oh no..." She whispered. "Hannah!"

Tracer jogged over tot he mecha that was entirely abandoned. The sharp click of someone in heels landing behind her caused Tracer to turn around only to be pinned to the mecha, wincing as the ice cold metal met the back of her neck and small of her back. Widowmaker looked down at her with a grin, leaning in close to her until the sniper's nose slid gently past the pilot's.

"W-where is she..." Tracer asked, trying to sound demanding and failing miserably. "What did Sombra do with ?"

"Do not worry about your friend, chéri." Widow whispered in a smokey rasp, her lips so close to Tracer's that the little Brit could feel her warm breath. "She's in a... similar position."

"You mean they..." Tracer began before Widow jerked her by her jacket and pressed her against one of the metal walls behind them. The dizzying spin almost sent the pilot sprawling to the ground but she was brought out of her minor stupor by a cold hand sliding up her stomach, causing her to suck air in through her teeth.

"Ah, oui." Widow replied, breathing heavily into Tracer's ear with a smirk. "Though she does not make Sombra work so hard for her fun. Do you enjoy this game of chat et souris?"

Tracer turned a faint shade of red and bit her lip as Widow's finger tips slid into the waistline of her bright leggings. The sniper smirked as her captive's knees began to tremble and leaned forward, biting her on the neck. Tracer tilted her head back and groaned softly as her captor left another hickie next to the one that was still somewhat visible from their last interaction less than three days before. Not wanting the cold to ruin her plaything's fun, Widow hooked her fingers against Tracer's leggings and tugged her, walking backward into one of the buildings. Tracer instantly breathed easier as she was brought into the warm office and squeaked as she was shoved into a rolling chair that slid back to one of the consoles at the back of the room.

Shutting the door behind her and locking it, Widow turned to Tracer with a hungry expression that gave the Brit butterflies in her stomach. With as sultry a gait as anyone could ever manage Widow sauntered toward Tracer as she sat obediently in her chair, her gaze stuck on the sniper's hands as she began to slowly undress herself.

"There will be no interruptions this time, ma lociole." Widowmaker said as her she tossed her helmet to the side. Tracer bit her lip as the sniper's constricting outfit slid down her soft, cyanotic skin. When the bodyglove toppled to the ground Widow stepped gracefully out of it and without having to take another step she straddled Tracer with a grin.

"You don't got'a be so cheeky." Tracer stated, her cheeks flushing red as she stole glances all over Widow's long, toned body. Widow smirked in response and place a hand under the pilot's jaw, pushing upward and forcing Tracer to look at the ceiling. She opened her mouth to protest and gasped as two of Widow's thin fingers slid into her lips and played with her tongue. With her other hand Widow began undoing Tracer's harness just enough to pull the jacket away. Parting the heavy brown fabric Widow leaned forward, placing the tip of her tongue against Tracer's skin, just above the regulator in her chest and slowly dragged it upward, tracing a line up the pilot's throat. Widow's tongue slid up Tracer's chin and then promptly darted into her captive's mouth as soon as she found it. With no reason left to pretend she didn't want Widow to take her, Tracer moaned into her captor's mouth.

Tracer was the one to break away from the kiss this time, gasping as frigid, slender hands slid down her ribs, bright red nails raking her flesh as they trolled further down. The pilot giggled as she was given a playful, ticklish squeeze of the hips, which Widow made a mental note of, and then sucked the air through her teeth again as eight cold digits slid into her waistline once more. Widowmaker began to slowly, teasingly tug down on Tracer's leggings. The impatient pilot brought her hands up to help and was rewarded by having her arms pulled behind her. Widow kicked off the console behind Tracer, sending them both rolling toward the sniper's equipment. With narrowed eyes Widow grabbed her grappling device and used some of the excess cord to tie Tracer's hands behind her back.

Widow then stood up, grabbing Tracer by the flaps of her coat and hauled her up. When they were both on their feet she kicked the chair back and then pushed Tracer down on to her back. Though she wasn't being overly aggressive with the pilot that's exactly what it looked like and Tracer couldn't help but quiver as Widow took command of her. Laying on her back the Brit watched as Widowmaker pulled her shoes off and then began crawling forward like some kind of predator. Tracer lifted her hips up when Widow began to pull her leggings down, making it easier for the captor to strip the captive. Widow grinned when she noticed that her plaything wasn't wearing underwear this time.

"Someone was expecting me, I see." Widow whispered, turning Tracer as bright a red as she'd ever been. The sniper merely grinned and leaned in, kissing at Tracer's bare thighs. The Brit gasped again at the icy kiss pressed against her legs but she didn't dare move. Widow grinned as she kissed higher and higher until she was face to face with Tracer's womanhood. She looked up at Tracer's face to see her reaction but the woman wasn't looking, her face a bright red, chewing on her lower lip expectantly. Rather than embarrass the poor thing too much, the sniper gave the pilot what she wanted.

* * *

 **Aaaaand that's that. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Totally kidding, but I wanted to pause while I get back into the writing groove. Don't want to drop all quality at the best part of the story because I took a long break, after all!**


End file.
